


When Your World Looks Kind of Weird

by Amy, milollita



Series: Just Close Your Eyes and Make Believe [2]
Category: A-Babies Vs. X-Babies, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Grief, Kid Fic, Riley is a stuffed animal here but that doesn’t mean Sam’s loss is less real, okay what if the Captain America 2 but they were all literally small children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 17:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12215496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amy/pseuds/Amy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/milollita/pseuds/milollita
Summary: Sam didn’t want to start a new school. And he definitely didn’t want to have to fight a bully. But after Riley Bird got stolen, he knew what it was like to have a big kid take your stuff. He wasn’t going to let his new friend go through that too.(words by Amy, art by milollita)





	When Your World Looks Kind of Weird

**Author's Note:**

> So much credit to milollita for [the beautiful art](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157793146@N07/37335204466/), and also many of the ideas in this story! Beta thanks to stayoutofitnick, hyperfocused, custardpringle, romantical, tellitslant, eveningsandcoffeespoons, hypotheticalpasttense, and probably more I’m forgetting. All remaining mistakes are my own.

On his first day at his new school, Sam had his favorite old backpack, a fresh box of crayons, a batch of his mama’s famous chocolate chip cookies to share with the other kids, and a tummy ache.

He didn’t want to start at a new school.

He hadn’t wanted to move at all, at first. Didn’t want to leave the apartment where he’d spent his whole life, or the church his daddy preached at full of all the men and women and kids who already knew him and liked him and gave him candy sometimes and told him how much he’d grown. But the new church wanted his daddy even more than the old one did, and his mama found a new job that had better hours than her old one, so it didn’t matter what Sam wanted, because they were moving.

He liked the new house okay. It was a lot bigger than their apartment had been, and even though he had to share a room with his brother he didn’t have to share with his sister anymore. And there was a whole backyard to run around in, and sidewalks where Sam could ride his tricycle all by himself, and there was even a tree where his daddy said maybe they could build a playhouse.

He would have been happy in his new home, if he still had Riley Bird.

Riley Bird was the best friend Sam had ever had. His sister and brother gave him to him on his first birthday and from then on Riley Bird never left his side. Riley Bird was a great adventurer. He went with Sam to school and to his auntie’s house and even to the playground. But one day, when Sam put Riley Bird down so he could go across the monkey bars just like he always did, some big kids who were new to the neighborhood took Riley Bird and wouldn’t give him back. Not even when Sam begged them. Not even when Sam’s big brother and sister tried to make them. Not even when the problem got bigger than playground rules, and they went to the grown-ups, and Sam’s mama and daddy tried to find those kids’ parents.

Sam used to love the monkey bars. He loved the way that he was high above everyone else, even the grown-ups, and the way that moving across them made him feel like he was flying. His stomach would swoop each time he let go of one bar to grab the next. But after Riley Bird got taken, it was different. His palms started sweating as soon as he got near the ladder, and the idea of climbing that high seemed out of his reach. 

Sam didn’t really want to go back to his old neighborhood playground anymore. But he didn’t want to be somewhere new either. Not without Riley Bird.

But, he knew, he didn’t have a choice. So he hoisted his backpack up so it was snug in the center of his back, just where it had fit him for years. He let his mama kiss him on the forehead and tell him to have a good day, and then hand him the Tupperware container of her fresh-baked cookies. He made himself smile. And then he opened the door to his brand new life.

*

Sam was pretty good at pretending to be brave. At least, he thought he was. But the tummy ache didn’t go away immediately.

There were kids everywhere. Probably as many as there had been at his old school, but he’d known all of them, and all of these kids were new. And they were hard to tell apart. There were at least four white boys with blond hair who looked like the same person.

Sam really could have used Riley Bird right then.

He had just found the cubby with his name on it (S-A-M was easy to spell) when a girl with her hair in twists came over. Her right arm was in a cast. She had a pretty smile.

“Hi, New Kid,” she said.

He put his backpack in the cubby before turning around. “My name’s Sam,” he said.

“I’m Misty. Want to play jump rope?”

Sam didn’t like jump rope that much. But he liked the idea of having someone to play with, and as long as it wasn’t the monkey bars, he’d try anything. “Sure.”

Misty and her friend Colleen were a lot more fun than Sam expected. They had two jump ropes, and with Sam there, they could play Double Dutch, taking turns spinning the ropes or jumping inside them. Misty and Colleen were really good at it. They had a special move that they called the Dragon that Sam couldn’t even figure out, but definitely looked cool. 

He was just getting the hang of jumping in without getting hit in the cheek with a rope when he got hit in the shoulder with something else. He grunted with surprise and stopped jumping, and the ropes hit his ankles, one after another.

“You okay?” Misty asked. 

But before Sam could answer, one of the blond boys from the classroom appeared out of nowhere. “Um,” he said. “On your left?”

Sam leaned over, reached out with his left hand, and found a Frisbee with red and white circles around a blue center with a bright white star painted in the middle. He held it up warily.

“Sorry,” the boy said. Sam noticed that he was panting from having run over.

“Is this yours?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, it’s my shield. I guess I threw too hard. Sorry.”

Sam’s shoulder had only stung briefly; he wasn’t really hurt. “It’s okay,” Sam said. “You’ve got a good arm.” He held out the Frisbee.

The boy grinned and accepted it. “You should see Bucky’s.”

“This is Steve,” Misty interjected. “He was raised in a barn, apparently. And this is Sam. He’s new.”

“Hi Sam,” the boy- Steve- said. “I’m glad you’re okay. You should play with us sometime.” And then he ran off.

“What just happened?” Sam asked.

“Steve Rogers just happened to you,” Colleen said. “It happens to all of us. Come on, it’s still your turn to jump.”

Sam thought he was getting a lot better now, but it was maybe his imagination.

*

It turned out this school wasn’t that scary after all. Sam sat with Misty and Colleen at lunch, and they introduced him to their other friends too. After he ate his sandwich, he pulled out his mama’s cookies, and all of a sudden, the kids weren’t just Misty and Colleen’s friends. Luke ate three whole cookies, and Danny said they were really good, and Claire begged Sam to tell her mom the recipe. Word quickly spread, and by naptime, kids were fighting to sit near him during their rest period.

The grown-ups saw, and told everyone to settle down, and pointed Sam to the area near the dress-up clothes to lie down so he didn’t have to pick anyone. Sam unrolled his mat carefully, fluffed up a pillow, and found that he was lying down just to the right of Steve.

“Sam, right?” the boy asked.

Sam nodded, and didn’t know why he suddenly felt shy.

“Sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay.”

Steve held up a stuffed animal. “This is Bucky Bear,” he said. “He’s my best friend.”

“Can I see?”

Steve handed the bear over, and Sam held him up. Bucky Bear didn’t look that special at first. He was just a teddy bear. But Sam could see all the places where his soft brown fur was worn down, or where his uniform had been torn and neatly re-stitched. One of his arms had clearly been torn off, and had been replaced with a new one made of soft gray fabric. “What happened?” Sam asked, running a finger over the arm.

“A dog took him,” Steve said. “And it broke him a little. But Natasha helped me get him back, and we fixed him.”

“My Riley Bird got taken too,” Sam said. “But not by a dog, by big kids. And we never got him back.” It hurt to say it out loud, and he bit his lip hard to keep from crying. Sam wasn’t a baby, he _wasn’t_.

“My friend Natasha helped me get Bucky Bear back,” Steve said. “Maybe I can help you find Riley Bird?”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Sam said. The question made his tummy ache. Steve was nice, and Sam was glad he got his friend back. But it wasn’t right, the way that Steve could just think it was that easy. Like Sam’s sister and brother and mama and daddy weren’t enough, but this new kid who’d never even met Riley Bird could rescue him.

Maybe some of that showed on his face, because Steve looked a little sadder now. “Do you want to maybe borrow Bucky Bear for naptime?” Steve asked.

Sam knew Steve meant it, because only someone who had lost their best friend would understand how hard it was to sleep without him. But Sam also knew that he didn’t want a Bucky Bear. Bucky Bears couldn’t replace Riley Birds. “No thanks,” he said, handing the bear back to Steve, and he curled up to nap, hugging his chest around where Riley Bird should have been.

But something had changed during that naptime. Maybe it was that Steve’s offer meant more to Sam than he’d realized at first, or maybe Sam telling him about Riley Bird made Steve see him differently. Maybe there was just something about napping together that made things look different.

Over the next few days, Sam and Steve started playing together more. They ran races and played tag and climbed the jungle gym on the playground, and after the first time Steve asked, no one ever even brought up the monkey bars. They built giant towers with whatever blocks Tony wasn’t using. They played with Steve’s shield a lot. After a week or two, Sam brought in his toy soldiers from home, and they set up military battles that none of the other kids were interested in. Sam still played with Misty and Colleen a lot, and Steve still played with his other friends, but they were a unit now. Sam-and-Steve. It wasn’t as good as Sam-and-Riley-Bird, of course, but it was still special and important. 

One day Sam and Steve each held one end of the jump rope and turned while Misty and Colleen did fancy double-dutch Dragon tricks together, and Sam laughed so hard his sides ached. And he thought maybe, just maybe, things could be okay here.

And then Steve’s shield went missing.

*

It was a nice day, and they were on the playground, which was everyone’s favorite part of the day. Steve wasn’t too upset at first; he thought maybe he had left the shield back in his cubby, or forgotten it at home. So Sam played tag with him like normal, and they were having fun. Right up until Natasha came over.

Sam wasn’t sure what to make of Natasha. Unlike most of the other kids, she didn’t ever ask for his mama’s cookies, although she’d had some once and told him they were good. She was friends with Steve, so he knew she couldn’t be that scary. But there was something off about her, like she knew a little bit more than everyone else did and she was going to use that. Sam didn’t avoid her, exactly. He just wouldn’t have chosen her when Steve and Misty and Colleen were all right there.

Sam didn’t remember seeing Natasha run, ever. She usually showed up looking calm and acting like she had realized everyone needed to meet at the sandbox back while Sam was still at the swing set. But just this once, she seemed out of breath.

“Brock took your shield,” she said. “I heard him bragging about it.”

Steve stopped in his tracks.

“Who’s Brock?” Sam asked.

“He doesn’t like me,” Steve said.

Sam thought everyone liked Steve. “Why not?” he asked.

“He’s one of the big kids,” Natasha explained. “He hates Steve cause he stood up for other little kids to Brock’s face.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. Sure, everyone wanted to be the person who went after the mean kids, but no one really did it. At least, he hadn’t thought so.

“I just don’t like bullies,” Steve said. “Are you sure he took it, Natasha?”

“I wouldn’t have come to you if I wasn’t,” she said.

“Well,” Steve said, “I guess we’re going to have to get it back.”

Sam’s insides went all twisty. Big kids stealing stuff on the playground was what he’d left. It wasn’t supposed to happen here too. He thought about Riley Bird, and from the expression on Steve’s face, he thought maybe Steve was remembering that conversation too. But Steve had only heard the story. Steve didn’t know how scary it could be. When big kids took stuff, you didn’t get it back.

* 

The next morning, Natasha and Steve and Sam laid out the toy soldiers with new purpose. Steve was good at plans; he knew everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, and even though he didn’t like Brock, he seemed to know a lot about what he would do. They loaded up Sam’s backpack with all their supplies. By recess time, they were ready.

Natasha pointed out Brock, and then they all went to their places. Everything was like Steve had guessed. Brock was just the kind of jerk to have the toy out to taunt Steve, and sure enough, there he was, playing Frisbee with his mean friends. 

A tiny part of Sam hoped they would be bad at the game- bad enough for the shield to fly out of bounds, so that they could just rescue it and not have to worry about a confrontation. But he knew that wasn’t how things worked.

Steve had the hard job. Once Natasha cleared away Brock’s friends, he would be the one to confront him and demand his shield back. Steve was good at that, at big scary gestures that no one else would think of doing.

Natasha was the sneaky one. She crept up across the green, and the boys didn’t even notice her as she laid out the traps they’d made. Natasha had figured out that if any of them tripped and fell, most of the others would go over to help them, but Brock would keep playing no matter what.

Sam’s job was lookout. All he had to do was be their eyes in the air and let Natasha and Steve know what was happening so they could adjust on the go. It made sense, when they were planning. But Jean and Scott and their friends were on the jungle gym, and that meant Sam’s best vantage point was the monkey bars.

Sam had to do it for Steve, he knew he did. It was too late to change plans. But he hadn’t been on the monkey bars since Riley Bird was taken. He gripped the ladder, and tried to climb, but every rung felt like stepping away from his best friend. The monkey bars were like a reminder of just how big big kids could be, and how little it mattered if a toy was _yours_. Steve didn’t understand that, and Sam didn’t want Steve to have to understand it, but that understanding made his legs feel like clay.

He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. He took deep breaths, settling himself. But before Sam could get up there, he heard yelling, and he realized it was too late.

His backpack thumped against his back with every step as he ran over. Natasha had eliminated lots of Brock’s friends. But she hadn’t gotten all of them, and Steve was facing off against three boys, all bigger than him. And Sam, on the ground, hadn’t been able to warn him.

Steve’s back was to him, which meant Sam could see their faces. All three of them. He was scared they were going to hit Steve. He didn’t know what he would do if they hit his friend. 

“I could do this all day,” he heard Steve say as he got closer.

Brock’s smile was cruel. “Rogers? Stop trying to get your dumb shield back. It’s my Frisbee now. You’re embarrassing yourself.” 

Sam didn’t think. The only thing he had was his backpack, and it was only half-full, now, but that didn’t matter. He swung it, hard, and it made a satisfying noise as it hit Brock on the arm.

Brock yelped from shock, and a satisfied feeling bloomed in Sam’s chest.

But it was short-lived. Things were spilling out on the ground, and it took him a moment to realize those things were from his backpack. The hit must have torn a hole in his bag, Sam realized. And it wasn’t even worth it, because Brock hadn’t let go of the shield and after that little yelp, he was laughing. He was _laughing_.

“Tell your friend to mind his own business,” Brock said to Steve. And he walked off, with his friends behind him, leaving Sam to scramble to pick up his stuff.

*

Sam expected Steve to be upset, but he wasn’t. After they collected Sam’s things, Sam just wanted to curl up in the book nook and lick his wounds in peace, but Steve couldn’t seem to stop himself from running, almost in circles, like he had too much energy to burn.

“We almost did it,” he said. “Brock’s just a kid like us. We’re smarter than he is. We’ll plan better next time.”

Sam thought about the monkey bars, and how he’d frozen by the ladder. The problem wasn’t the planning. But that made him think of other monkey bars too, and other times big kids found favorite toys. He thought of his busted-open backpack and Brock’s laughter while his things lay on the ground. “There isn’t a next time, Steve,” Sam said. “We tried, and it didn’t work. You gotta understand that happens sometimes.” 

“No,” Steve said. “We tried and that means it _can_ work. We just have to plan better. I gave up on Bucky Bear, and Natasha got him back. I’m not giving up this time.”

It was a very Steve speech, the kind that made you want to be better just because he was. But this time it didn’t work.

“You don’t get it,” Sam said. He didn’t usually yell, but right now, he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, you lost Bucky Bear and you got him back. That doesn’t happen all the time, and it definitely doesn’t happen for everyone. Some of us have things taken and they never come back. They’re just taken from you forever.”

There was a long silence, the kind that you could fit whole worlds into. The kind not even one of Steve’s speeches could fill.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said finally. “I didn’t realize.”

“No,” Sam said. “You didn’t.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Sam was just getting started.

“Do you even know how lucky you are to have Bucky Bear?” Sam asked. “Do you know how much every day I wish someone could bring Riley Bird home to me, even if he was missing a wing or needed to get his stuffing replaced?”

Steve’s face was twisted terribly, like he was only realizing how big Sam’s loss was right then. Like all the times they’d talked about it before didn’t exist. “Sam, I never meant it that way.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Steve didn’t have to think of it that way. For him, it never was that way. But Sam’s best friend was still gone. “Go away,” Sam said.

“Sam, I-”

“Go _away_!”

He stalked to the far corner of the book nook and curled up there, and didn’t turn around any of the times Steve came closer to try to talk. Misty came over to see if he was okay, but Sam didn’t feel up to talking with her either. The empty space next to him that should have been for Riley Bird seemed to take up the whole room.

*

Sam didn’t mean to tell his parents. He knew the rules of the playground as well as anyone, and it’s not like this was Riley Bird again. He stayed strong all afternoon, and he didn’t even break during dinner. But at bedtime, when his brother and sister were still playing downstairs and his mama always spent fifteen minutes just with him special, the words came pouring out faster than he could catch them.

“Big kids are _mean_ , Mama,” Sam said. “They steal things, and they don’t care if you’re upset, and they hurt my friend, and I didn’t mean to but I hit him with my bag and it broke and he laughed and Steve doesn’t understand and I don’t think we’re friends anymore and I don’t like it here and _I want my Riley Bird_.” And then he was sobbing, like all the sad stored up inside of him was suddenly coming out in tears and snot.

Rather than yelling, his mama just held him until he stopped crying, holding a tissue box with her other hand so he could blow his nose. Once he could breathe without hiccupping she had him get out of bed and bring his busted backpack over. She looked at the rips. “I think we can fix this, Sammy,” she said, and he didn’t remember the last time she’d called him Sammy- he had asked her to stop ages ago, because he was a big boy- but it felt good. “But let me talk to your dad first, okay?”

“Are you mad at me?” Sam asked.

“You know better than to hit someone,” his mama said. “And you know that if anyone gets in trouble-”

“I _know_ , Mama.” She had given him the speech plenty of times already, reminding him that he was more likely to get blamed even if it wasn’t his fault. “I’m sorry.”

“You were trying to protect your friend,” she said. “I’m not mad at you, baby. And I don’t think your dad will be either. We just worry about what’s going to happen to you.”

“I don’t think Steve would let me get in trouble without taking the blame with me,” Sam said. At least, he wouldn’t have before today. Now that Sam was mad at Steve, he wasn’t really sure.

“Let me go talk to your dad,” she said. And instead of reading him a bedtime story, which is what she always did after asking about his day, she left the room, leaving him alone with all his other stuffed animals.

Sam wanted to believe her that he wasn’t in trouble, but it was hard when he knew his parents were off talking about him. And especially hard when they both came in to his room together.

Except neither of them looked mad. And his daddy was carrying a wrapped box.

“This was going to be part of your birthday present,” his daddy said. “But from what your mama says, it sounds like you need it today even more.”

“For me?” Sam asked. When his parents nodded, he tore into the wrapping paper, and then lifted the top of the box. And there, right in front of him, was the best backpack he’d ever seen.

It was a bright red backpack. It had room for his lunch and his crayons. But it wasn’t just any backpack. It was soft. It had two eyes and a beak and it looked like the beak was smiling and it was a bird and it was, Sam knew without a doubt, his new best friend.

“We know you miss Riley Bird,” his mama said. “And we know this can’t replace him.”

“Redwing,” Sam said. “His name is Redwing.” It was hard to say anything else with his face buried in the fabric as he clutched it to his chest. Sam hadn’t realized how much he needed him until he was there.

“So you like it?” his daddy asked.

“I love him,” Sam said. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, Mama. He’s perfect.”

“You know,” his mama said, “if this boy is bothering you and your friends, your dad or I can call the school, maybe his parents-”

“No!” Sam said. “You have to let me handle it myself, okay?”

“I know you’re growing up,” his daddy said. “And I know you’re a superhero protecting your friends. I always want you to stand up for what you believe in. But you don’t have to do this alone.”

“If it gets worse, you can call,” Sam said. It wasn’t _exactly_ lying, he told himself. He knew it wasn’t going to get worse. “But not right now.”

“If that boy hurts you-”

“I’ll tell you. I promise.”

Sam’s mama and daddy both kissed him goodnight, and didn’t even make him put his new bag away. Instead he positioned Redwing right by his pillow, watching over him when he slept. He felt safer than he had since Riley Bird got taken away. Redwing, he thought, would understand why.

That night, Sam dreamed about birds and flying. He dreamed about playgrounds and monkey bars and different kinds of friends being there for different kinds of problems. When he woke up, everything from yesterday still hurt, and nothing was better, but the anger inside him had burned itself out. He wasn’t mad at Steve anymore.

*

That morning, Sam’s mama gave him homemade cookies in his lunch, but Sam didn’t put them away with the rest of his food when he emptied his backpack into his cubby. He took them out first thing and brought them right over to Steve. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said as they split an oatmeal raisin.

“No,” Steve said. “You were right. You told me about Riley Bird and I didn’t understand. I’m really, really sorry you lost your best friend, Sam. I’ll try to be as good a friend to you as Riley Bird was.”

Steve’s words felt like fresh-baked cookies. “This is my new friend,” he said, holding up his backpack. “His name is Redwing. I got him last night.”

“He looks friendly,” Steve said.

“He is. To you. But he’s really protective of his friends.” Sam took a deep breath. “We’re going to get your shield back, Steve. But not just us. Let me plan this time, okay?”

This time it wasn’t just a few of them planning things out. Sam got Natasha and Steve, of course, but he got Misty and Colleen too, and that meant Danny and Luke and Claire came, and Clint went wherever Natasha was and Bruce and Tony wandered over to see what was happening, and soon they had a whole group.

It wasn’t hard for Sam to assign everyone individual tasks. All of them were good at different things. It was the speech that was harder, but with Redwing on his back, Sam felt up to the task.

“Steve said we’re smarter than Brock, and maybe we are,” Sam said. “But I know one thing we’re definitely better at than him and the other big kids. We work together, all of us.” He looked around the cluster of faces he felt he was just starting to know, making eye contact with each of them. “Steve, it’s your shield, so you should go first. But don’t do anything you wouldn’t want the rest of us to do too. We’ll all be right there with you.”

Sam didn’t give himself a job. He made sure everyone else could do theirs. And then there was nothing to do but wait until recess.

This time, Natasha didn’t have to be sneaky peeling off Brock’s friends. With Clint by her side, she took a small pile of dodgeballs, and hurled them one by one at their faces. It had the same result, but it took a lot less effort, and Natasha seemed pleased to not be hiding.

Misty and Colleen used their jump rope skills to lasso the stragglers. This time, Brock was alone.

Sam didn’t take a high vantage point this time. As Steve strode up to Brock, Sam stayed by his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rest of his friends coming closer.

“I’ll ask one more time,” Steve said. “Give me back my shield.”

Brock laughed. “You think this is any different than the other day? I told you, it’s mine now.”

“Give it back, or I’ll make you.”

“You couldn’t make me do anything,” Brock said, and he took a step closer, looking as menacing as he could as he towered over Steve.

Sam stepped forward too, making sure he had Steve’s flank, and for the first time, really saw Brock head-on.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief. Brock was mean, and he was definitely bigger than them. On the playground, he was scary. But as mean as he was, he wasn’t like the big kids who stole Riley Bird. He was just a regular old bully, and he was going to get what was coming to him.

Sam knew his parents didn’t want him to get hurt. But they wanted him to stand up for what he believed in, and Sam wanted that too. Right now, what he believed in was Steve.

“You want to fight someone?” Sam said. “Fine. Then you’re fighting me too.” He rolled his shoulders, feeling Redwing on his back. And then he put up his fists, just like Steve was doing on his left.

Natasha, on his right, adopted a similar stance. “And me,” she said.

He kept his eyes on Brock. But from the corners of his vision he saw that there were more of them, all taking the same pose, all waiting, everyone from Misty and Colleen to Luke and Danny and Claire, and even Jean and Scott and their friends were stepping over to help. All of them taking a stand, just like they’d discussed. All of them ready to fight for one of their own.

Brock looked at all of them, lined up and ready. He laughed his mean laugh. And then he said “Forget it, I don’t want your stupid Frisbee,” and he threw it to the ground in front of Steve and stalked off.

It wasn’t getting Riley Bird back. It wasn’t even close. But standing up, beating the bullies- there was a glimmer of what that might have felt like anyway.

Steve stared down at it for a moment, like he didn’t quite believe it, until Sam nudged his shoulder. “Go get it,” Sam said. “It’s yours.”

Steve looked like he was going to say something dumb like “It’s all of ours now,” so Sam pushed him a little harder, and Steve obediently picked it up. Steve looked around, at all of them, and then grinned. “Anyone want to play Frisbee?” he asked.

They fanned out, all of them, to begin the game, but Sam turned away.

“You don’t want to play?” Steve asked. He looked disappointed. “You’re the hero here.”

“Nah,” Sam said. “I mean, I want to, but I have to do something first.” And he stepped back to the playground.

Sam took it one metal rung at a time, feeling the places where the dark green paint was peeling against his fingers. His palms were dry; the monkey bars were scary, but he knew he could do it now. Arm up, leg up. Higher and higher.

The monkey bars here were even taller than the ones he was used to. The spaces between the bars were almost as big as him. He didn’t care.

He adjusted Redwing on his back, reached his arms out as far as they could go, and jumped.

Sam flew.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157793146@N07/37335204466/in/dateposted-public/)

**Author's Note:**

> [Purchase a Redwing of your very own!](https://smile.amazon.com/Amint-Toddler-Daypack-Harness-Backpack/dp/B071NPG47J/ref=sr_1_41?s=apparel&ie=UTF8&qid=1506412531&sr=1-41&nodeID=2404178011&psd=1&keywords=bird%2Bbackpack&th=1)


End file.
